Birds
by DPRRluvJ13MM
Summary: AU An unfamiliar species known as birds have become a threat to society. Vlad Masters can't help but think there's something more to these creatures than meets the eye.
1. Chapter 1

_**I wasn't gonna put this up…but I'm bored and I haven't submitted anything DP in a while (since most of my plot bunnies have revolved around the 9 fandom lately). I haven't lost interest in DP, oh no! Far from it! It's just more plot bunnies for 9 have been formulating in mah head XD**_

_**I actually began writing this fic a while ago and the basic plot is already firmly in my head. Dunno how often I'll update this since I still have to finish **__**Danny Phantom of the Opera**__** and **__**Stellar, **__**and half my other started fanfics haven't been updated in MONTHS!(frigging DP plot bunnies) lol**_

_**Well, I'm gonna stop rambling. I will say this fanfic is EXTREMELY AU. It might be a bit confusing in the beginning so if you have any questions, just ask. But I may not be able to answer all of tem since that might spoil something –shh-**_

_**Alright, I'll shut up now. Enjoy.**_

**Chapter 1**

Jake and Danielle Manson rushed down the stairs when they heard their names called. Their parents were waiting for them at the bottom of the staircase. Jeremy and Pamela Manson were extremely strict about their children's behavior and often needed to remind them to behave.

Jake Manson was a couple of months older than his sister. He had the same blonde hair as his father and bright green eyes. He often liked to play radical games and dress up. The boy refused to be acknowledged by the name Jake, he preferred his made up name, Youngblood. The only time he answered to the name Jake was if his parents were yelling for him, which was the case at this moment in time.

Danielle Manson was twelve years old and tended to listen to her parents more often than Jake. Still, a part of her yearned for adventure and every so often she would play with her brother. Unfortunately, every time she would even step foot into her brother's room while he was dressing up, her parents would discover her and get right on her case.

"Jake, Danielle," their mother, Pamela, began.

The children sat at the foot of the stairs and looked up into their parents eyes.

"Can you explain to us what _this_ is?" their father, Jeremy, asked holding out a sheet of paper with math homework on it. Underneath all the numbers were drawings of Jake and Danielle in a boat trying to catch a fish.

"It's Danielle and I in a boat," Jake responded plainly.

"Jacob Manson…" Pamela began.

"I told you it's Youngblood," 'Youngblood' retorted.

"Your name is Jacob or Jake and nothing else!" Pamela shrieked.

"Children, what have we told you about doodling on your math homework?" Jeremy asked.

Danielle looked down at her shining onyx Mary-Jane's and answered: "We're not supposed to..."

"Exactly," Jeremy said.

"But it's not my homework! It's Youngblood's! I may be in the picture but I had nothing to do with it!" Danielle protested.

"Danielle!" her father boomed.

Danielle looked back down at the floor.

"Danielle, sweetie, how many times have we told you not to encourage your brother that Youngblood is his name?" Pamela hissed.

"But he won't answer to Jake! Not when I call him that!" the black haired girl explained.

Pamela ran her fingers through her bright, swirly red hair. "Look, children, you shouldn't be indulging yourselves in crazy fantasies like this. You'll end up being hunted down and an angry mob will burn down the house just like they did with that old ghost writer."

"You mean the one that wrote the story about the raven?" Youngblood asked.

"Don't speak of birds! They frighten me," Danielle shuddered.

"Darling, we've told you a hundred times, birds don't exist," Jeremy reiterated to his daughter.

"I'm not so sure, father. I thought I saw a person with wings instead of arms outside the other day," Youngblood chimed.

"You probably just saw a shadow, Jake dear," Pamela said.

Thunder boomed and lightning cracked across the sky above.

"What's that?!" Youngblood shrieked.

Pamela and Jeremy turned to look out the window. There was a flash of lighting and the outline of a person with wings in place of their arms. Danielle unleashed a blood curdling scream and buried her face into Youngblood's sleeve.

"Jeremy…" Pamela began.

"I'll go see what's out there," Jeremy said.

He grabbed the coat rack and shook the contents off of it. As the coats landed on the floor, Jeremy opened the front door and walked outside.

"Be careful, dear!" Pamela called.

The cold rain poured down on Jeremy's head, ruining his perfectly combed blonde hair. He squinted to see through the dark. Another flash of light and the shadowy figured seemed to be moving closer.

"Who are you?!" Jeremy called into the darkness.

When no answer came, Jeremy swung the coat stand like a baseball bat. Suddenly, something ripped it from his grasp. Another flash of light revealed that Jeremy's weapon of choice was being gripped tightly with a foot and a big foot at that. The light disappeared before Jeremy could see who the foot belonged to or even what gender this person was, if it even was a person.

Before Jeremy could call out again, he felt something rip the coat rack from his hand. He heard a whooshing sound and felt the coat rack crash down on his skull. The impact had cracked the top of his head open. Jeremy fell to the ground as he continued being beaten. The attacker paused when Jeremy stopped moving.

"JEREMY!" Pamela cried.

The attacker dropped the coat rack and fled.

"Jeremy!" Pamela called again as she as her children ran outside.

A flash of lightning revealed Jeremy lying lifeless on the ground, drenched in blood. Black feathers stuck to him and rustled in the wind.

Pamela shrieked at the sight of her dead husband.

"Mother!" Danielle cried. "Mother, what's wrong?"

"Children, go back inside!" Pamela cried.

"What happened?" Youngblood asked.

Pamela wiped a tear from her eye and answered: "Your father has been attacked…by a bird."

_**For those wondering why I made Youngblood's name Jake, it's cas he's voiced by Taylor Lautner who plays Jacob in Twilight. And although I'm not a fan of Twilight, I figured the name fit, plus Youngblood looks kinda like a Jake to be 8)**_

_**Enjoy. I'll try to update soon.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Figured I'd take a short break from 9 fanfiction (and trust me when I say short I mean SHORT!). Anyway, I just thought I'd explain a couple of things before you move on:**_

_**In this universe, humans have never heard of birds.**_

_**These birds aren't like real birds. They're like, human-bird hybrids. There'll be more explained in this chapter.**_

_**Some of the characters will be extremely OOC, particularly Paulina…but she won't show up until a later chapter.**_

_**Yeah, just though I'd point out how my AU works 'cause it's kinda confusing. So, yeah. Enjoy.**_

10 years ago:

A man who looked to be in his early twenties paced the floor. Looking up at the clock perched upon the mantelpiece he ran his fingers through his shaggy black hair.

12 o' clock midnight.

The man's bright green eyes narrowed in frustration. It was the middle of December. He had promised his late wife, Lenore, he would have a book published by the end of the year. Sadly, no idea for a story had come to him.

"Lenore, Lenore," he mumbled under his breath.

The fire from his fireplace was hardly enough to keep him warm and the man shivered as he walked slowly to his typewriter. His frigid fingers hovered over the keys for a while as he tried to think of a plot. Still, nothing came to him.

Fury built up inside him and he was just about ready to seized the typewriter and chuck it through the window when suddenly he heard a gentle rapping at his chamber door.

He flinched. His eyes grew wide at the sight he saw. A boy about the age of sixteen was perched atop the man's chamber door. He was a small boy, not short, but small. The writer wagered the boy would come up to his knee if he was standing next to him. He had messy, pitch black hair the fell in his face and bright blue eyes. He wore only what looked like burlap made into a pair of pants held up by a string.

As if the boy's size wasn't strange enough, he had no arms. Instead, he had feathers. Long, ebony feathers extend from under his shoulders and down past his waist.

The boy cocked his head to the side in confusion. It was as if he had never seen someone like the writer before.

"Are you a human?" he asked.

The writer flinched. "Wh-what are _you_?" he asked.

"A bird," the boy answered.

"A what?" the writer asked.

"A bird," the boy reiterated.

The writer was confused. "What's a bird?"

"What I am," the boy said raising his feathery arms.

The writer gasped and took several steps back as the boy swooped down and landed in front of his feet. His assumption was correct; the boy came up exactly to his knee.

The writer continued to step back as the boy moved forward. Suddenly, he tripped over a small desk beside his bed and almost fell into the wall. But something stopped him.

The boy had leapt into action. He spread his feathered arms and flapped them frantically. He darted for the writer and seized the front of his shirt with his teeth. Summoning all of his strength, the boy hoisted the writer back into a standing position. The writer gaped at the 'bird's' jagged teeth as they released his shirt. There were now holes where the boy's teeth had been.

Still flapping, hovering in air, the bird asked: "So, are you a human?"

"Ye-yes," the writer said. "Uh…tell me _bird_…what is your name?"

"Name" the bird asked lowering himself to the floor.

"Yes. What are you called…besides bird?" the writer questioned.

"The air calls me Raven," the boy answered.

"The _air_? What do you mean the _air_?" the writer asked, now completely baffled.

"My kind were created from the air. The dark, the light, and the in between," the raven explained.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," the writer said massaging his forehead.

"So, what are you called? Besides a human I mean," the raven bluntly changed the subject.

"Edgar. But I go by 'Ghost Writer' as well," said the 'ghost writer'.

"You go by three names?" the raven asked holding out his foot. He succeeded in having only three of his five toes sticking out. Ghost Writer assumed this was his way of holding up three 'fingers'.

"Yes," he answered.

"Do all humans go by three names?" asked the raven. "Should I have three names?"

"I suppose you can. You look like a Daniel to me," Ghost Writer said examining the bird.

"Daniel?" the raven asked.

"Or maybe just 'Danny'. Whichever you pick," Ghost Writer said.

"Danny?" the bird considered the name.

"So, Danny, what do you mean by 'your kind being created by the air'?" Ghost Writer asked.

"I don't know exactly. The air just created us and gave us the title of bird," Danny explained.

"Interesting. Now, what's this business about dark, light, and in between?" Ghost Writer asked sitting on the edge of his bed.

"The dark birds are considered the birds without a heart and the light birds are the ones with hearts. The in between swing either way," Danny said making his way to the fire.

"Well, what are the in between?" Ghost Writer asked.

"Why do you care?" Danny retorted.

"I'm curious. My kind, humans have never heard of birds before," Ghost Writer stated.

Danny narrowed his eyes on the Ghost Writer before continuing: "In between birds are birds with colors. They aren't specifically black or white which is why they could be either good or bad. Like my partner."

"Partner?" Ghost Writer asked.

"Yes. He's called Parrot," Danny said.

"He?" Ghost Writer gaped.

"Yes. Birds are partnered with their opposites. A black bird is partnered with a white bird to balance each other out but in between birds can be partnered with either light or dark," Danny said.

"And you're a black bird?" Ghost Writer cocked an eyebrow.

Danny smirked. "Yes."

"But if you have no heart then why did you just help me?" Ghost Writer asked.

Danny cocked his head to the side, confused.

"When I tripped, you helped me up," Ghost Writer reminded.

"So?" Danny asked.

"I consider that a good deed," Ghost Writer smiled.

Danny's eyebrows arched. "You and I obviously have different views of things then."

"Obviously," Ghost Writer chuckled.

Something didn't seem right. Ghost Writer had never been thought of as mad before, now he feared his sanity was thinning. He was speaking to something almost inhuman. Almost-considering he looked like a human but without hands.

"So, Danny, why is your, ehem, _partner_ a male?" Ghost Writer asked.

"We are partnered with our same gender so we don't get distracted by the opposite…you know…love?" Danny asked wondering if humans were aware what 'love' was.

"Yes. But what if you fall in love with your partner?" Ghost Writer questioned.

"Why we would fall in love with someone of our same gender?" Danny asked.

Clearly, birds were unfamiliar with the concept of homosexuality. "Never mind…" Ghost Writer waved the idea away with his hand.

Danny sat down and held out his feet, warming them by the fire.

"How did you get in here anyway?" Ghost Writer asked.

"Your door was unlocked so I came in," Danny said simply.

"Do you do this often?" Ghost Writer asked.

"No," Danny said. "This is first time speaking with a human or even being in their house. I'm not supposed to be here, actually. Humans aren't to know of our existence."

"Then why are you telling me all this?" Ghost Writer queried.

"Black birds are notoriously mischievous," Danny grinned deviously.

The Ghost Writer flinched as a few of his pointed teeth peeked out from Danny's upper lip.

"Why can't humans know about you?" Ghost Writer asked.

"They don't understand us. They might attack us and destroy us. I think it might have happened to a few of my kind already. I'm not sure. Probably a rumor," Danny said distantly.

"I didn't attack you," Ghost Writer pointed out.

"This is true," Danny nodded.

His crossed his legs and sat Indian style by the fire.

"I should go. Parrot's probably wondering where I am," Danny said standing up and heading for the door.

Ghost Writer headed for the door and pushed it open. Danny stepped outside and spread his wings.

"Goodbye," Ghost Writer said.

"Goodbye, human," Danny said before he took off into the dark abyss concealed by falling snow.

Ghost Writer grinned and slowly began to shut his door as he muttered under his breath:

"Quoth the raven: Nevermore."

_**Virtual cookie to anyone who can find all the references to Edgar Allen Poe's poem; The Raven!**_

_**As with everything I write, don't expect me to update soon ^^;**___


	3. Chapter 3

_**Well, hello there. I decided I would spend my birthday updating my fanfictions ('cause Lord knows I need to, I haven't updated most of my stories in at least a year). So yeah, hope you enjoy! Also, sorry for the short chapters. Future chapters should be longer, I promise.**_

The Foley's usually went on camping trips when they had the time. Mrs. Foley wanted to go camping before her new baby came along. She had brought along her knitting needles and yarn to make baby clothes.

Her husband, Maurice, was busying rummaging through his bag whilst Mrs. Foley was making a red bureau cap.

"Oh, crap!" Maurice swore.

"What is it, darling?" Mrs. Foley asked.

"I accidentally grabbed Richard's reading glasses instead of mine. He has a different prescription than I do and his head is smaller than mine…" Maurice sighed. "Oh, well. I can try and read without them I suppose."

"Oh, Maurice! Isn't this darling?" Mrs. Foley asked holding up the finished bureau cap.

"That's adorable, sweetheart," Maurice smiled.

Mrs. Foley beamed and placed the cap into a woven basket beside her sleeping bad. "Do you think Richard and Cecelia are behaving with the nanny?" she asked suddenly.

"I'm sure they are," Maurice assured.

"Ugh!" Mrs. Foley sighed. "If only they were willing to come along with us I wouldn't be so worked up and…"

"Don't worry dear. Right now, all we need to worry about is what's in there," Maurice said pointing to his wife's stomach.

"Oh, Maurice," Mrs. Foley giggled.

Suddenly, there was a rustle in the trees. The couple froze as the rustling became louder.

"Ma-Ma-Ma-Maurice?" Mrs. Foley shuddered.

"Don't worry, dear. I'm sure it's just the wind," Maurice comforted his wife.

"The wind, is it?" asked a haunting voice.

The Foley's screamed as something hit the back of the tent.

"Let's get out of here!" Maurice cried.

"But-but what about our things?" Mrs. Foley asked frantically.

"Forget our things! We need to save ourselves!" Maurice cried gripping his wife's wrist and yanking her out of the tent.

The couple ran for their dear lives as the tent behind them collapsed. Danny laughed and began rummaging through the content within the tent. A flashlight, a book, two sleeping bags, a woven basket of knitted clothes that would probably fit him perfectly, a pair of glasses…

Just then, something nipped at his ankle.

"Yipe!" Danny squealed and he pulled his head out of the tent.

Standing behind him with a disapproving look on his face was a boy about his age and height with dark skin, dark green eyes, and short black hair. Like Danny, he wore burlap pants held up by a string and sported two wings in place of his arms. Unlike Danny though, his wings were an array of reds, blues, and yellows instead of pitch black.

"I was wondering when you'd get here, Tucker," Danny laughed playfully kicking the other bird's leg.

"I would've gotten here quicker if you hadn't have taken off so quickly. I swear, I think you go 112 miles per hour! You know I can't see far away that well!" Tucker cried.

"Relax! I have a solution to that," Danny said.

"Oh, you do, do you?" Tucker asked not believing a word of it.

"Yes," Danny said reaching into the tent and pulling out Richard Foley's glasses with his teeth. "Here!" he said grabbing the glasses with his toes and placing them on Tucker's face.

The glasses were a bit big on him and slid down his nose but other than that, they fit Tucker like a glove. "What in the hell?" Tucker gasped when everything blurry suddenly became clear as day.

"Humans use them to see better," Danny explained. He wiggled his way back into the tent and rummaged through the woven basket. When he emerged from the tent, he held the red bureau cap in his teeth. "And here!" he said putting the cap on Tucker's head. "You keep whining about how your head's cold, so here ya go." He patted Tucker's head with his wing and stepped back to admire his work.

Tucker arched an eyebrow. "You're a bit too generous for a dark bird, you know that?" he asked.

"Yeah. You point that out A LOT!" Danny said rolling his eyes.

"I think you just pretend to be a jerk! I think you really were a light bird but you fell into a vat of coal or something and just assumed you were a dark bird and…" Tucker began.

"…and I decided to take on the role…blah, blah, blah…you've told me your theory a hundred times Tucker. I already told you it's not true," Danny said. "If I was, would I sneak away so often?"

"True. Where do you sneak off to anyway? You've never told me," Tucker pointed out.

"It's none of your business," Danny said spreading his wings and taking off from the ground.

Tucker's eyebrows narrowed and he followed close behind. His new glasses slid down his nose and he used his wing to push them back up. Danny was in clear slight of him.

"I'm your partner, Danny!" Tucker shouted. "I'm supposed to know where you are every second of every day!"

"And yet you don't. You don't do your job very well, do you?" Danny joked.

"I'm serious Danny!" Tucker shouted.

Danny stopped mid flight and flapped in place as he allowed Tucker to catch up. When he did, Danny took off again. Flying wing to wing, Danny said:

"I go into human's homes."

"What?" Tucker shrieked.

Suddenly, he ran into a tree branch. Danny swerved around and grabbed Tucker by the leg of his pants with his teeth pulling him out of the tree. When he was released, Tucker immediately nipped at Danny's ankle.

"Ow! What was…?" Danny began.

"You know you're not supposed to go near humans! How long have you been doing this?" Tucker snapped.

"Eh…few years…talked to that Ghost Writer. How do you think I found out about names?" Danny asked. "If it weren't for me going into the human's homes, I'd still be calling you Parrot!"

"But that Ghost Writer got all the inside information about us and published a book of it, now all the humans know about us and it's all because of you!" Tucker shrieked.

"Yeah, but it wasn't a totally loss…" Danny said.

"How?" Tucker growled.

"He got his house burned down and he died. Serves the bastard right for blabbing about it after I told him humans shouldn't know about us," Danny muttered under his breath.

Obviously having heard this, Tucker kicked Danny in the stomach. "Ow!"

"It doesn't matter what happened to him, the point is you did the wrong thing and exposed everything about us! This is _your _fault!" Tucker cried.

"And you said I wasn't a dark bird," Danny smirked.

Tucker swiftly kicked Danny in the stomach. "Gah! Cut it out!" Danny shrieked.

"I know you have a conscience Danny, try listening to it," Tucker spat immediately flying away.

Danny sighed. He did occasionally do the right thing, yet a yearning for the knowledge of human's stopped him from hearing his conscience, no matter how loud it yelled at him.

Ever since he had met the Ghost Writer, Danny had been sneaking away more and more. Humans were fascinating, occasionally annoying, and had something Danny wanted. Hands. Hands allowed humans to do so much. They didn't have to handle things with their feet. Danny envied them.

So far, Danny hadn't actually spoken to another human. Ghost Writer remained the soul human to have verbalized with the Raven. Danny did want to talk to one though. There was one human in specific he had taken interest in. A middle aged man with white hair he always pulled back into a ponytail. Danny would perch on the man's window sill and watch him read. The man had many books and seemed to have a different one every day. Danny wondered what the man was reading, or rather, what reading was. He had never read anything before.

The man would often be drinking tea while he read and Danny had never heard a sound out of the man aside from a cough every now and then. He could faintly hear him muttering what he was reading but it was never audible what exactly he was saying.

Danny wanted so badly to see what the man was reading, especially one day when he saw the man reading a book with a picture of a bird on it. That must've been the book the Ghost Writer had published. Once, Danny had half a mind to tap on the window and talk to the man, but he decided against it. Not because it was the wrong thing to do, but because he could faintly here Tucker's squawk in the distance and would rather not get caught in the act. Guess it didn't matter now since Tucker knew.

Tucker was a pretty good partner. He was stubborn and did whatever he could to keep a tag on Danny but every now and then he would leave Danny be. Tucker knew better then to pester Danny every hour of the day and besides, everyone needs some alone time.

Danny remembered when he and Tucker were first partnered up. They were both just chicks and Danny was an unusually quiet bird. Tucker was not. He would squawk and squeal almost every chance he could get. Danny didn't like it and promptly bonked their heads together to shut Tucker up. Despite what the wind whispered to him, Tucker refused to be anywhere near Danny. Without having to be told, Danny went to apologize by gently nudging Tucker's ear and resting his head on the Parrot's shoulder. Tucker relaxed and rested his cheek on Danny's head. Since then they were able to get along, for the most part.

Danny decided to head back to the hollow trees with Tucker.


End file.
